


Afternoon Flowers

by DCA



Series: A Day of Chance - (Moomins) [2]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: F/F, big saps, lesbians need rep!!, so i gotta do it dfshdgjhdgs, they are both hopeless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 09:16:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18913999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DCA/pseuds/DCA
Summary: "As Mymble set out against all odds- those odds being her doubts- she thought about where to look for her, where she thought the craftsperson could be. The sky was warm now from the afternoon sun as she approached the forest. A soft ‘tch tch tch’ echoed from within the woods, winding around tall trunks with its familiar, comforting repetition. It couldn’t be anything else but the sound of carving and whittling of wood."





	Afternoon Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't actually gotten to see much content with too-ticky or mymble, just the occasional video clips, so i hope the characterisation and interaction is okay!

As Mymble set out against all odds- those odds being her doubts- she thought about where to look for her, where she thought the craftsperson could be. The sky was warm now from the afternoon sun as she approached the forest. A soft ‘tch tch tch’ echoed from within the woods, winding around tall trunks with its familiar, comforting repetition. It couldn’t be anything else but the sound of carving and whittling of wood.

Each step she took towards the source, deeper into the forest felt weaker, drawing Mymble’s stomach into a terrible knot, and then she paused, just beyond the sight of the ever-sturdy Too-ticky taking residence upon a fallen log. She hesitated, but thought back to how Snufkin had consoled her, in his own Snufkin way.

She drew in a breath and stepped forward.

“Good afternoon Too-ticky!” Mymble greeted in a feigned chipper voice, hoping that her warming face was not already red.

“Ah, Mymble!” she patted the space beside her on the log, “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Mymble flushed lightly, daintily sitting beside her, deciding to pick at the small flowers that had taken root on the triumphed log. “I suppose so.”

Too-ticky began again at the wood in her hand, small flicks of the wrist here and there, shaping it into a thin stick.

“What are you making?” Mymble asked, gathering flowers from around her feet.

Too-ticky glanced momentarily up from her work to look at her. “It’s uncertain for now.”

She hummed softly in response to that, a very Too-ticky answer no less.

They sat in companionable silence with the whittling taking to the afternoon air, shavings and chippings falling to the grass in even cuts. Mymble plucked more flowers from where they sat, slowly weaving one by one together, all the while stealing the occasional glimpse of the woman beside her.

Soon she formed a crown of tiny white flowers and she held it for a while, before she turned to Too-ticky and placed it on her head. A perfect fit, just nicely circling her signature cap.

Too-ticky looked up and reached a paw to feel the flowers. She smiled widely. “Thank you very much.”

And with that, a furious blush coloured Mymble’s cheeks. “Oh it’s nothing,” she flailed, “I should be going actually.” And before Too-ticky could protest to that, she had gone quickly back the way she came.

“Ah.”

 

 

Mymble had run far much faster than she ever thought she would, winding her way through trees, tearing down blooming fields, with none of her elegance; all of it gone in that moment of panic. Far too close is what she thought of that, what would Too-ticky think? She didn’t want to find out.

Slamming the door of her house behind her, she flinched at the sound, heaving hiccups of breath far to scarce to be good for her heart, and slowly, she slid down her door, seating herself clumsily on the hard surface of floorboards. Perhaps she had panicked beyond what would’ve been thought as regular, but Mymble would rather be safe than live through more mistakes and failures again.

Oh, Snufkin would surely be disappointed in her agitated nature; too hasty, much too afraid of something that might or might not even happen, too timid, too deer-like.

She inhaled in an attempt to regain composure. Maybe she should go out and try again, that’s what Snufkin would tell her to do, but that would be fickle of her. Especially after that commotion. Would Too-ticky… be worried? Perhaps it looked worse than it was, to go running away like that when almost nothing had happened. Mymble cursed her own naivety. She really should think more clearly than this, be more like her brother or at least a bit more level headed.

Mymble sighed, how was she ever to get along in life if she just never took anything with poise?

A rapping knock at her door disrupted her pensiveness, scattering her away from it. The knocking repeated itself and she opened her mouth to reply, but found no sound from it, an unconscious act of reclusiveness. 

“Mymble?” came Too-ticky’s distinctive lilt, muffled, through the wood. “You ran off like a frightened creep, are you alright?”

Mymble shuffled her feet on the floor. So she was worried. Oh, and it was her fault. She would very much like to just hide beneath her covers and sleep until it was all forgotten. Or maybe, she could go out there and apologise. It would just take all of her remaining strength and willpower.

Outside she could hear Too-ticky beginning to leave, so before she had any chance to doubt herself, Mymble swung open the door. Too-ticky jumped at that, holding a paw to her heart, the other secured behind her back, and still donning the delicate crown of flowers. “Mymble! You nearly frightened me half to death!”

“I’m sorry! And I’m sorry for earlier, running off like that,” she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, “it’s just, oh, I’m not even quite sure why! But I’m so sorry! For worrying you and-”

“Oh hush, it’s fine.” Too-ticky smiled reassuringly, “Events take their course like that sometimes, and besides, I got time to finish this.” She held out her hand from behind her back to reveal a neatly carved wooden rose, its petals thin, almost paper, the stem purposely rugged with love, no thorns or splinters to be seen. “For you.” 

Mymble’s face flamed almost as red as her hair. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” 

Too-ticky placed the rose within Mymble’s paws and folded them gently, holding them with her own, a faint colour across her cheeks. Mymble took a breath and in a moment of tremendous bravery, leaned up, placing a feathery light kiss on Too-ticky’s rosy cheek. They both broke into smiles of ecstasy and Mymble giggled.

“I do feel very silly now. I suppose I really shouldn’t have fretted so much.” she said, holding tightly to the rose and to Too-ticky’s paws. Snufkin was right, Too-ticky most certainly didn’t mind, judging by the way she looked at her with the softest affection.

Too-ticky moved to weave their paws together, side by side. “Well I can’t say much on feeling silly since I had never made a move before, but I can say, there’s still plenty of afternoon left and I know the perfect spot.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments would be lovely!!
> 
> i made some horrible phone art for this fgasdhfhasd: https://deathlycrimsonabsol.tumblr.com/post/185025253101/a-horrible-phone-doodle-i-did-in-my-draft-or-the


End file.
